Third Time's A Charm
by DefyGravity18
Summary: Annie Lockwood met Lockwood Stratton at the museum. She knows in her heart that he is really Strat, but he doesn't seem to know yet. Can the two lost soulmates finally manage to be together once and for all?
1. Chapter 1

Annie Lockwood awoke with a start to the sound of her older brother, Tod chomping cereal in her doorway, holding the phone.

"So were you going to sleep all day or did you plan on at least _trying_ to get up while breakfast is still an option?" Annie jolted up in the bed and glared at Tod.

"This is my _only_ day to sleep in and you decide to wake me up because you enjoy waking up at the crack of dawn to work out?" She said, rubbing one of her eyes with the back of her hand and letting out a yawn.

"Huh." Tod said with a shrug. "You have a phone call."

"Okay," Annie said, irritated. "Tell Amy I'll call her later." She mumbled.

"Yeah…it's not Amy. It's a guy." Tod replied, smirking. Annie stared at her brother in confusion.

"It's not Sean, is it?" She groaned, laying back and covering her face with the pillow.

"No, Annie." Tod grew serious. "It's Strat."

The pillow was thrown immediately to the floor as Annie's eyes opened in a mix of horror and excitement. Lockwood.  
"I'll take it." She said, throwing the covers off and flying across the room, snatching the cordless out of her brother's hand. Taking a long breath, Annie swallowed before she could find the strength to talk. "Hello?"

"Annie?" Strat's same voice greeted her, sounding exactly the same as it always did. Her heart lurched, knowing he didn't share the memories that she did, but she still thrilled at the sound of his soft spoken tenor.

"Lockwood, hi." She said, reminding herself to keep Lockwood separate from 1899 Strat, who was somewhere on the Nile.

"Not Lockwood…" He replied, laughing. "Please…the only people who call me Lockwood are my Grandmother and my Mom when she's mad at me. Just Strat."

"S-Strat." Annie breathed, hating how pathetic she sounded. He chuckled good-naturedly again.

"I have to tell you, I had another dream and you were in it!"

"Oh really?" Tod had come back into the room and was staring at her with an almost sad expression on his face. "Yeah…we were on the beach. It was really weird. You were wearing this white lace dress. I don't remember much else though…my little sister said that means I should ask you out." Annie laughed nervously. Strat had a little sister. If her name was Devonny she would go into overdrive.

"What's your sister's name?" She asked.

"Mandy." He explained. "She's ten." Annie sighed a little in relief.

"How fun! I always wanted a sister." She replied.

"She's a handful." He told her. "But she had a point. Since I met you this week, I couldn't stop thinking about the museum…and I kind of owe you coffee, or dinner even."

"I like dinner." Annie blurted, smacking her forehead.

"Me too. Well, generally." He joked. "So, well..this is awkward…where do you live? I can pick you up around six…that way we can catch a movie after if you want." Annie shook her head, trying to process Strat's voice saying the phrase, 'Catch a movie.'

"Sounds good." She said, feeling her face flush a deep pink. Vaguely, she heard herself give him directions to her house before hanging up the phone. "I need to start drinking." She muttered to herself, watching as her sad faced brother drifted toward the window. Annie frowned. Ever since the Devonny debacle, a few years earlier, Tod had been a different person. He coached little girls' soccer and was currently a junior in college, majoring in, of all things, history. Sometimes, Tod went on dates and there had been a few minor girls that he'd dated shortly, but he never seemed fully happy. He immersed himself in work and school and the girls. He was twenty years old and he seemed much older sometimes, when he was alone and there were no distractions for him.

Annie knew conclusively that Devonny Stratton had gone home and had become Devonny, Duchess of Winden. She knew this because there were books that told of how Lady Winden had been an advocate for women's rights and had started a scholarship fund for educating less fortunate young ladies. She was a female hero and there were pictures of a grand looking thirty-two year old Lady Winden in a sleek suit and stylish hat standing with Theodore Roosevelt. She was really beautiful, Lady Winden, with her dark hair elegantly coiffed beneath her hat. Annie had been so thrilled when she'd found the picture of Devonny in her history book on her first day of college. Once she'd realized Devonny's married name, it hadn't been hard to find articles on the woman. She'd finally succumbed to death in 1981 at one hundred and one years old. Annie only wished she knew so much about Strat. There was virtually no mention of him in any of the articles about Lord and Lady Winden.

"Should I expect you to disappear for a few days again?" Tod asked dryly. Annie rolled her eyes at him.

"No, you should not. I have a date tonight." She informed him. Tod frowned up at her in confusion.

"I thought this guy was from like a hundred years ago." He said, a flash of pain passing over his unshaven face.

"You have no idea." Annie said, shaking her head and walking back toward her room. "This guy is supposedly a descendent of Devonny's, but it's freaky. He looks exactly like Strat."

"But he's not." Tod pointed out, raising his eyebrows.

"But that's _it_, Tod," She explained desperately. "It's _him_. I don't know how…but I can see Strat in him, looking out at me through his eyes."

"You're talking crazy." Tod said, sighing. "Then again, we're both freaks of nature with this time travel junk."

"You need to get out more." Annie said, feeling a wave of compassion for her older brother.

"Annie, it's been three years since Dev fell back. I didn't even get to say goodbye. I mean, it's not like I wanted to _marry _her or anything. I was seventeen years old! But some closure would have been nice."

"Tod, I went three times…and not once did I ever get a proper goodbye." Annie admitted to him. "I came back because I didn't belong there. She didn't belong here…as much as I would have loved to keep her with us."

"Yeah…I know." Tod replied, sighing in defeat. "Well, have fun on your date. I have to get going…the playoffs start tonight."

"I'll be at the game on Monday night…should I bring some juice boxes?" Annie asked, getting out of bed and walking over to her dresser to rummage for some socks.

"Yeah…the girls like Capri Sun. Thanks, Anne." Tod said, leaving before she could respond. Annie stared contemplatively at her closet. What do you wear on a date with a guy you've known for a hundred years, but who doesn't remember you? _Remember, this guy is from now. Wearing an old ball gown won't be a good idea. _Annie's eyes settled on the white dress she'd worn the first time she'd met Strat on the beach at Stratton Point. She'd been fifteen then, just finishing her freshman year of high school. Fingering the white lace, she smiled nostalgically, wishing it still fit her. Since the last time she'd worn it, she had grown into a woman. Annie had filled out, though still slim, she definitely had a bust now and hips that had surprised her at the beginning of her senior year. She still wore her hair long, though she knew it was completely out of fashion to have hair hanging to your waist. Mostly, she wore it in a low ponytail or in a long braid down her back. Tonight, she decided she would wear half of it up.

Annie's parents had called Wednesday and informed their children that they had been comped three more days at their resort, leaving Annie and Tod free through the weekend. It had actually worked out perfectly, since Annie's father, though well intentioned, still thought of her like a twelve year old. She wanted to remind him that while he was out cavorting with Miss Bartton, his co-worker, she had been at home, being responsible and getting straight A's.

The rest of her day was spent rather impatiently, with Annie trying to relax. First, she took a long bath. No help there. After that, she tried to read the romance novel she'd been working on and got through two pages in an hour. At four o'clock, she set about cooking dinner for Tod to occupy herself. Usually, she would have let her brother fend for himself, but she couldn't take the silence in the house. Even the dog was keeping himself scarce.

Annie checked the clock on the kitchen wall and gasped. Lockwood Stratton would be arriving in a half hour! Dashing upstairs, she quickly put on the dress she had picked out and pinned a barrette into her long, shiny hair. She applied just a bit of mascara and some blush and reviewed her reflection just as the doorbell rang. Panicking, she looked at her alarm clock. He was early! Annie gathered her breath and spritzed some of her favorite perfume on before walking out of her bedroom. She heard Tod let him in and the two struck up some idiotic conversation about football. Annie groaned, willing herself not to roll her eyes as she walked into the room. Lockwood was leaning comfortably against the wall beside the front door while Tod talked animatedly about the winning pass of the football game from the night before.

"Hey Strat."Annie, said, interrupting. She felt her cheeks heat up when he grinned at her. This Strat was wearing black dress pants and a blue dress shirt under a dark pea coat. His wild, sandy colored hair was brushed a bit more neatly and he was clean shaven. He looked more like her Strat than ever.

"Annie, hi! You look great!" He said, smiling down at her. Annie looked at her brother with sympathy.

"Your dinner is in the microwave." She informed him. Tod nodded and bounded toward the kitchen to retrieve it before soccer started. Meeting Lockwood's eyes, she shrugged. "Kids." He chuckled quietly and gestured for her to follow him out the door once she had her coat on. His car was not an old beat up clunker like Tod's piece of crap, but it was not really high end either. Lockwood Stratton drove a rather modest Ford Taurus with four doors. To her surprise, he opened the door for her.

"My mother told me if I didn't open the door for you tonight she was going to smack me upside the head for making her look bad." He laughed, getting in the other side. Annie laughed as well.

"I just didn't expect it. Most guys don't even try." She explained, thinking of her ex-boyfriend, Sean, who was now dating some sorority girl. "So where are we going for dinner?" Annie asked, wondering if this version of Strat still believed in something other than McDonald's or Taco Bell.

"There's this little seafood place up by Stratton Point, I thought we could try it." He said, frowning. "Unless you don't like seafood, there's—"

"I love seafood!" Annie agreed. "I've been meaning to try that place but it seems like I'm always busy." She was babbling now. "It's really a shame about the mansion, huh?"

"Yeah." Lockwood agreed. "Dad used to bring us up here all the time for family history hour." He rolled his eyes, laughing. "He didn't even really know what he was talking about, but he made it up as he went along. He said old Mr. Stratton, my great-great grandfather, was so mean and ruthless that he tried to murder his own son, and when he found out that Junior was in Egypt he went after him. He came back empty handed and depressed and ate himself to death in the mansion. His fifth wife, Florinda, found him dead in his bed. They had to break down a wall to get him out of the house to bury him." Annie cringed, thinking of old, fat, awful Hiram Stratton Sr. and poor Florinda finding him bloated and decaying in his bed.

"Gross." Annie muttered, picturing the greasy old man easily as if she'd just seen him yesterday.

"I'll have to show you a picture of him sometime. He was disgusting." Lockwood agreed. "What about you? Any interesting family history?" He asked, pulling onto the street leading to Stratton Point.

"Not really." Annie said, surprising herself. She had been so invested in the Stratton's family history, that she had never bothered to check into her own. How strange, she thought, when I might have found something to help? Walker Walkley had once mentioned Henry Lockwood, her great-grandfather. Had they all known each other? "My great-grandfather was a factory worker as far as I know. Nothing spectacular." It kind of disturbed Annie, actually, about how little she knew about her father's side of the family. Both of her great-grandparents, Henry and Anna had died long before Annie was born and her grandparents were both gone now as well. Holidays were always spent at Annie's mother's family home. `

"But that's interesting isn't it?" Lockwood mused. "Think about it Annie. When your great-grandfather was a factory worker, it was during the time when cars were beginning to become a possibility. The railroads were at the peak of their success…there could be a really interesting story…one worth looking into…don't you think?"

"Definitely!" Annie grinned at him as they parked in front of the classy seafood restaurant overlooking the now empty Stratton Point. Once again, he insisted on opening her door and helping her out of the car. Annie didn't even bother to pretend she didn't appreciate the gesture. She was on a date. With Strat. Granted, it wasn't the Strat from 1899, but this Strat belonged here. He wasn't going to be ripped away from her at any second. And there was something about this boy…well, man really, that made her feel like Strat was still there. The same magnetic pull she had felt when she'd first met Strat in 1895 four years before was pulling her toward this boy. There was no first date awkwardness. It felt like they had known each other forever.

After dinner, they decided to walk around the abandoned Stratton Point. It was eerie, the silence outside in the dusk there. The only sound was the waves of the ocean lapping at the beach in the cool, September air. Lockwood stooped down to pick up half a broken seashell and study it's weathered exterior.

"Do you ever wonder what it looked like?" Lockwood asked. "The mansion when it was still nice, I mean…when it was new. When people lived here…like when my great-grandmother lived here."

"Sure." Annie replied cautiously. "Before they demolished it, I walked around and just looked. It must have really been something." She swallowed the lump in her throat. Just like the Mansion, her Strat was gone now. Buried in some nameless grave.

"Hey…are you okay?" She heard Lockwood asked, looking up at her and forgetting the seashell. When she didn't respond, he lunged forward and caught her before she fell. Funny, she didn't remember swooning, but the clammy feel of her palms informed her that she was a bit light headed. He carefully helped her sit on a nearby bench and sat beside her. "Don't go disappearing on me again, okay?" He joked, but she could see that his face was a little pale as well.

"Sorry…I don't know what happened…" She said, feeling like an idiot. Lockwood watched her carefully before sitting back.

"Beautiful isn't it?" He said, looking at the beach. Annie nodded numbly, staring ahead. "I like you, Annie."

"You do." Annie said, though it wasn't a question, it was more a statement.

"I do." He agreed. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to go out with you again…maybe to a movie. Or whatever you want…"

"I'd like that." Annie said, managing a smile. His face lit up just as she remembered. "It'll be dark soon." She said, unsure of what she meant. Lockwood shrugged.

"I'm not afraid of the dark." He said, grinning down at her before his face became serious again. "Annie, I'm terrible at this stuff." A long sigh left him. "Can I kiss you?" Annie almost laughed. It was _so_ like Strat to ask permission to kiss her.

"Yes." She replied, giggling as she willed her cheeks not to flush red as he gently cradled both of her cheeks in his fingertips. Lockwood's eyes closed before hers until she felt the warmth of his skin against her cheek and finally, the velvety soft touch of his lips against hers. A surge of relief coursed through her at the same time as a rush of love swelled in her chest for him. It was the same kiss she remembered. He even smelled the same, if that was possible. A mixture of soap and aftershave filled her senses, making her dizzy. Annie didn't realize how tightly she was holding onto him until he pulled back to gaze down at her.

"Anna Sophia…" Strat murmured, looking down at her with an expression between ecstasy and confusion.

"Strat…I never told you my name was Anna Sophia." She said, watching his expression carefully. Lockwood's eyes seemed to come back into focus.

"What?" His voice was quiet, but he seemed genuinely out of sorts.

"Nothing." Annie said, not wanting to confuse the poor boy more. She laced her fingers through his and pulled him to his feet. "Come on…tell me about your family. It's early. We can walk for a while."


	2. Chapter 2

Strat was dreaming. He was in New York City, but not the New York he knew. There were flashing lights and horseless carriages and dozens of people. There were enormous buildings practically reaching into the clouds. It was louder than he'd ever imagined. The sound of engines roaring and people shouting was nearly overwhelming, but he wasn't scared. He was used to it. Yellow vehicles driven by mean looking men rushed by while people tried to flag them down. He was walking somewhere with his hands in his pockets. A newspaper was tucked underneath his arm. He turned to walk up the stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art when a girl who was dressed like she'd stepped out of a movie cut in front of him. Movie? He tried to see her face as they walked into the entrance, but a woman's voice cut him off. "Excuse me, do you have change for a dollar?" She asked. "Are you all right, hon?"

"Strat?" Another female voice cut in as the woman blurred before his eyes. "Are you all right? Archibald, I think he's coming to!"

"Let me see him." Archibald Lightner's voice came through the pounded of Strat's head as he struggled to open his eyes. The room was spinning. To his right Camilla and another girl were huddled together while Dr. Lightner stood near him and checked his pupils.

"No concussion, thank God!" He smiled down at Strat. "You gave us quite a scare, my boy! It's a good thing those officers brought you back to us after the crocodile attack! Your father has gone back to America. He will not bother you anymore."

"Here, give him some water," Camilla said, forcing her way back over. A tin cup was held to Strat's lips as the cool water made its way down his dry throat. What had happened? "Oh Strat, I'm so sorry I told you to run…what an idiot I am."

"S'okay." He mumbled, trying to sit up. Three pairs of hands guided him back down.

"No, no…you're in no condition to be up and about." Dr. Lightner said. "Camilla, get him a cold rag."

"I'll get it." A softer female voice said. The third pair of hands left and within seconds, she had returned.

"Sophie, you only just arrived, you should be resting to re-gather your strength!" Camilla protested.

"Oh hush…" The girl with the vaguely familiar voice protested, pressing the rag to Strat's forehead. It felt wonderful, so he stopped trying to open his eyes and allowed himself to relax into the soft touch of Miss Sophie. "He's almost the same age as Christopher."

"Annie…" Strat heard himself groan, reaching blindly up. A small hand circled his wrist and set his arm back down at his side.

"Sleep, Mr. Stratton." She said in a tone that reminded him of his mother's when she would comfort him.

"Strat…call me, Strat." He whispered. "And I'm not tired anymore. I'm hungry." He hated how raspy his voice sounded.

"All right…Strat." Sophie said hesitantly. "Camilla, get him some broth. I'll feed it to him." Strat tried to sit up again, but she wouldn't let him. "No, no…you have heat exhaustion, Mister…er, Strat. I don't want you to faint." Her voice was becoming more familiar as she continued to talk to him. Impatiently, Strat pulled the rag off his forehead and opened his eyes, waiting for the room to stay still. There she sat, perched on the edge of his bed with her shiny dark hair gathered into a soft chignon at the nape of her slender neck. Her clear blue eyes were fixed on him with a genuine, almost maternal concern.

"Annie…you came back." He cried happily, reaching for her. "We'll get married immediately, we'll…" He stopped dead, seeing the confusion in her eyes. They had grown huge, but she remained calm.

"Mr. Stratton, I'm Sophia Hume. I've just arrived here from America. I know who you are. I grew up just a few miles away from your New York mansion." Strat stared at her slack jawed. Not Annie? She was identical to Annie, down to the fierce determination set in her lovely jaw. How was this possible? And worse, Strat had humiliated himself.

"Miss Hume, forgive me, I—"

"Mrs, actually." Sophia informed him, blushing. Her blue eyes flitted down to the plain gold band on her left hand. "It's Mrs. Hume." Married…Strat's head was swimming. It had to be Annie sitting here with him and yet, she said not only that her name was Sophia Hume, but that she was _married_?" Oh Time, what a cruel thing…

"He died." She whispered, her gentle voice catching as it echoed through his mind. Now Strat was even more horrified. This woman, who could be no more than eighteen or nineteen, was a _widow? _"Two years ago…I'm just now coming out of mourning." Sophia explained, gathering her breath. "My brother gave me the money to come here. He told me to have an adventure for my Christopher. So, here I am."

"Christopher…was your husband?" Strat asked, sitting up with her help as Camilla handed Sophia a cup of broth.

"Yes." She said, tears shining in her pretty blue eyes. Annie's blue eyes. "For six months and seventeen days. He was shot and killed by someone on his way home from work."

"Don't cry…" He said tenderly, brushing one of her fallen tears with the tip of his fingers. She _felt _like Annie. "You said you knew who I was…" She nodded, composing herself as she carefully fed him a spoonful of chicken broth. It tasted good to Strat, who was starving.

"My brother is a manager in your father's remaining locomotive factory, and our father worked there as well before he died." She explained. "Henry is his name. Henry Lockwood."

Strat could not have spoken if he tried. He _knew _this girl had to be a Lockwood. This had to be fate. This girl was no stranger, Strat was convinced. She was Annie…rather, she was a previous version of Annie. Of course, he couldn't blurt that out to her and drive her off. She was damaged enough as it was already by the death of her husband. Walker Walkley's past words echoed through his mind.

"_Miss Lockwood. One of the Henry Lockwoods?"_

"_I think he was a great-grandfather." _

Of course he was! Which made Sophia Hume Annie Lockwood's great-great aunt.

"How old are you, Mrs. Hume?" He asked politely, accepting another spoonful of broth.

"Sophie, please. Call me Sophie. Formalities do us no good. And I'm twenty."

"Call me Strat." He told her. "What are you going to do here in Egypt, Sophie?" Sophie met his eyes sadly.

"I'm going to heal." She told him. Strat could see a pain in her eyes very like the pain he'd once seen in Harriett's eyes, the very first day he'd met Annie. "Christopher and I knew each other from a very young age and I always knew we were going to marry. Our parents were good friends, you see and we suited very well."

"You must have loved him very much." Strat said, knowing the loss she felt too well. Not only had he lost Annie Lockwood, he'd lost his sister Devonny, Harriett, his mother and Walk, who he'd thought to be his friend. His former friend's betrayal had made it all the worse.

"I did love Christopher." Sophie agreed, setting the finished broth aside. "It wasn't the love I'd hoped for when I was young, but it was still love."

"What do you mean?" Strat asked, watching the way she put a strand of loose black hair behind her ear, identical to Annie's mannerism.

"Everything with Christopher was so expected…so planned. He was a wonderful, sweet man, but there were never any surprises. I think every girl dreams of spontaneous, passionate love—"

"Mrs. Hume…" Strat interrupted uncomfortably, unsure of the word 'passionate' coming out of Mrs. Hume's delightful mouth. A small smile came over Sophie's face.

"Am I embarrassing you, Mr. Stratton?" She laughed, looking the slightest bit happier.

"Of course not." Strat lied. "I just…" He searched for the correct words, "I don't want Camilla or Dr. Lightner to hear us speaking about…you know, passion." Strat watched Sophie's eyes widen in sudden surprise.

"We're both adults, Mr. Stratton. Neither of us needs to worry about protecting virginal ears." She whispered. Strat didn't know how to respond to that. Oh, he knew how it worked. Walk had had enough women for both of them. Strat, on the other hand, had been ruined by Miss Anna Sophia Lockwood for other women. He'd never wanted anyone else. Sophie was staring at him with a peculiar expression.

"Mr. Stratton, forgive me, it was completely inappropriate of me to say such an idiotic thing." She said. "I didn't mean to cause you discomfort." Her eyes filled with tears again, making Strat reach out and wrap his hand around her small wrist.

"Of course not…no discomfort caused, Mrs. Hume…Sophie. It's just that," Strat took a breath, but was not scared. He could feel Annie in her. "I've never known a woman…that way." Sophie stared at him blankly for a moment. "Carnally." He added to drive his point. Her pale face became a decidedly becoming shade of pink, making her eyes seem even bluer. He couldn't imagine how lovely Sophie had looked when she had married Christopher Hume. He was oddly jealous of her late husband.

Maybe this is Fate's way of giving me Annie, Strat thought. It isn't Annie Lockwood, but I can _feel_ her presence. This is not just some girl who looks like Annie. It's no coincidence.

"That can't be true." Sophie said in response to his confession. She was still blushing fiercely. "A rich boy like you…"

"Sophie, I'm going to tell you the truth." Strat said, leveling with her. He still held her wrist in his hand. "My father and my best friend ripped me out of Yale and put me in a lunatic asylum. I was beaten, starved and tormented daily there." Sophie gasped, staring at him.

"But _why_?" She asked, moving her wrist so that she was holding his hand. It felt nice there.

"Because I loved a girl, Sophie." He opted not to frighten her with his talk of time travel. "A girl I couldn't have…" He bowed his head, remembering the terrible things his father and Walk had said to him when they'd taken him from school. "They put me in that hospital…all I heard was screams, all the time…my fiancée, Harriett, was dying and I never knew because I was locked in this…prison…"

"Why an asylum?" Sophie asked genuinely. There was no way Strat could tell her the truth, so he gave the vaguest version of the story.

"My friend, convinced my father I was insane. Really, he wanted me out of the way so that he could marry my sister, Devonny."

"Oh no…he wasn't British, was he?" Sophie asked.

"I—no…British?" Strat asked in confusion. Sophie watched him carefully, rising. Strat felt a terrible sense of loss as her warmth left him. He breathed a sigh of relief when she returned a moment later with a hot cup of lemon water.

"I read in the papers that your sister married the British Duke of Winden." She explained, holding the cup for him so he could sip. He relaxed as she smoothed his thick, messy hair out of his eyes. Devonny married? She was only eighteen!

"When?" He asked, surprised. Sophie's eyes met his.

"Just over a year ago. I can't believe you didn't know…" Sophie said.

"I haven't seen my sister in over two years, Sophie. She probably thinks I'm dead like everyone else in the world does." Strat admitted. Sophie stared at him in what had to be astonishment.

"I can't imagine being far from my brother forever…" Sophie told him, sighing and wiping her brow. "Henry and I are very close. His wife was one of my dearest friends growing up. Anna." Strat filled with recognition. So that was who Annie was named for. Her great-grandmother. Her middle name had been for her great great aunt, Sophie…the beautiful creature perched on his bed.

"We were quite a pair, Anna and I." Sophie laughed. "I'm quite tall…while Anna is very short. And of course, I'm dark haired and she has the most beautiful buttery blonde curls and green eyes. Henry calls her Annie, but I've always called her Anna or Annabelle, which is her full name. They are so very dear to me." Sophie said, smiling now. "And they're going to have a baby…which is even more exciting."

A baby…Strat remembered vaguely that he had promised Harriett to name his first daughter for her. He sincerely hoped he would be able to fulfill that promise. He wondered if his sister Devonny would be having any children soon…she had been married for a year now! Eighteen year old Devonny…a wife…a Duchess even! He would find a way to see her someday.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stratton." Sophie said, interrupting his thoughts. "I've upset you."

"No…" He assured her tiredly. "Just a lot to take in is all…" Sophie smiled kindly at him.

"Well, I must retreat to my tent to change out of my traveling clothes and possibly take a nap. Crossing the Atlantic and the Mediterranean is quite a daunting task." She stood. "It was lovely speaking with you, Mr. Stratton."

"Strat." He corrected hoarsely. She inclined her head as regally as a queen.

"Strat. You may call me Sophie." With that, she disappeared through the tent. Strat stared after her in thought. How could someone who exuded Annie, have such a different personality? But he already knew the answer.

In 1999, Annie Lockwood was a nineteen year old woman, a college student most likely. She had never known true loss or hardship. Sophia Hume was twenty years old and had been a widow for two years. She'd been married at eighteen. She had lost her father. Sophie would never have the opportunities that Annie Lockwood had been given in the future. Even her face which was technically identical to Annie's had a slightly different look. Her eyes were more tired…her cheekbones slightly more defined in her thin face. There had been a spark in Annie that screamed, _I can do anything. _In Sophie, it screamed, _I want to do things._

It was almost ironic to Strat because Annie had never needed him, but Sophie did. She was alone and though she was strong, she needed help to heal. She wasn't looking for romance as Annie had been. She needed something more meaningful.

A friend.

And of course, Strat wasn't looking to replace Annie with her doppelganger. It had been the real Annie that he'd fallen in love with. The one from a hundred years in the future…hadn't it?

Since coming to Egypt, Strat had enjoyed hearing about the mythology and prophecies that ancient world had carved into their monuments. There were all sorts of legends of rebirth and spells and blessings. When they had been back in Khufu's time, he had seen Renifer's faith in her eyes. Strat sighed, thinking of Renifer. Poor girl…he could relate. Betrayed by the people closest to her and left for dead. Though there was no way of knowing if she had survived very long after they had left her, he liked to think she had done great things.

As he settled tiredly back into the uncomfortable cot, he noticed a single lotus flower lying on the table beside his bed. It was lovely, with fuchsia petals. To his delight, it had not yet wilted in the blazing afternoon heat of the desert. Perhaps there was some hope for him after all…


	3. Chapter 3

**So, there are a few inconsistencies with the original stories. So I'm going to clear it up. **

**Book 1: 1995/1895**

**Strat is 18 and Annie is 15, Tod is mentioned as Annie's OLDER brother. He has to be older, since it is said that he has a drivers' license. (We'll say 16)**

**Book 2: February 1996/1898**

**Strat is 21 and Annie is still 15 or newly 16. Tod is 16-17**

**Book 3: October 1996 **

**Tod is 17, Annie is 16, Devonny is 16 **

**Book 4: September 1999/1899**

**Okay, here is where things get messy. **

**Annie is 19, Tod is 20, and then the book says that Strat is 19. This is impossible since A. Strat was 21 in 1898 and B. It has been four years since he first met Annie. SO: Strat is 22 in my eyes in this book. I've done a timeline which I will eventually post. :)**

**Thank you for reading and for those of you who reviewed, I appreciate. I do plan to continue with this. It is going to be a full length story.**

**S**

* * *

Annie and Tod's parents had returned home in a flourish on Sunday morning. They'd come with little gifts for each of the kids and some treats for the dog, who seemed like he couldn't have been less interested in their return. She and her brother knew that their parents, though well intentioned, did not know them very well anymore. They'd bought Tod a T-Shirt with a sports team that he was certainly not a fan of on it. For Annie, they'd given her a pair of ridiculous sunglasses, that were allegedly all the rage right now. She found them to be hideous, but of course, said nothing.

Since her date the night before, Annie had forced herself not to think about Lockwood Stratton for the simple fact that every time she did, her heart began racing and she couldn't breathe well. If she'd had suspicions that Lockwood was actually Strat before, she was even more so now. He'd called her by her full name and she had never even told it to him. They'd been on the beach, in nearly the same spot that they had been when she'd gone back for the first time in 1895 and she had swooned. It had been an alarming parallel.

It also made Annie curious. If something as simple as a similar situation could bring a memory back, maybe other things would too. In the meantime, she was enjoying getting to know the new Strat. He was funny and yes, charming, but also a really nice person. It became clear, after just an hour together, that his family was very important to him, no doubt a trait that had been passed through the generations from his great-grandmother herself.

Annie realized, with shame, that she did not know very much about her own family history because she had been so consumed with finding out the sordid tale of the long gone Strattons. It made her curious, to know if maybe her own ancestors had known Strat, Devonny, Harriett or, God forbid, even Walker Walkley. Walker had certainly seemed to know of the Lockwoods upon their first meeting. It made her wonder why she had never thought of it before. Not that it really mattered, since her grandparents and great-grandparents had been dead for years.

"Dad." Annie said aloud to her father, after Mom had gone to take a shower. Tod had left for another practice before the playoff game the following afternoon.

"What's up, Annie?" Dad asked, setting the remote aside and grinning at her. He looked very much like Tod when he smiled.

"When did your grandparents die? Henry and Anna?" She asked curiously, watching his reaction carefully. Her father's eyebrows raised in surprise, but he tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Well, let's see…Henry was in his late seventies, so he would have died in the early fifties. Anna was a few years later, probably in 1960 or so, since I was around six or seven. Why do you ask?"

"I just never knew about them. I've never even seen a picture." Annie told her father truthfully. He chuckled and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. Out of it, he withdrew his old picture windows and displayed a worn old black and white photo. The edges were crumbling. Two older ladies stood with a little dark haired baby boy, smiling into the camera. One was much taller than the other, who wore dark rimmed cat-eye glasses. Annie smiled, thinking they reminded her of the fun loving old ladies who went to play Bingo every week.

"Which one is Anna?" She asked. Her father pointed to the shorter of the two. "Well, who is that holding you?" She wondered.

"Oh, that's my Great-Aunt Sophie." He explained, replacing the picture in his wallet. "She died the year before Anna did. Those two were quite a pair of funny old broads. After Aunt Sophie's husband and Grandpa Henry passed away they moved in together and became heads of their local Bridge club." Annie giggled, despite herself.

"Do you remember them at all?" She asked. Her father shook his head.

"I remember bits of them, but I mostly remember them through your grandma's old pictures. Those are in storage though. Somewhere in the attic." He nodded toward the stairs. Annie felt the strangest urge to go and look through them. "They were your namesake though, kiddo." Dad went on. "Anna and Sophia. Sophie was Henry's sister."

"How come I never heard about Sophia before?" Annie asked, biting the inside of her lip.

"I guess I never really thought about it. I mean, I was a little kid when she died and your grandma and grandpa haven't been around in a while, so I must have just forgotten about her. From what my mother used to tell me though, she was quite a traveler. She was married twice you know."

"Really?" Annie asked, fascinated.

"Yes. First to a boy who was murdered in 1897 and then again in 1900. She had three children, but we've never really been close with their families since they live in Michigan."

"What were _their_ names?" Annie urged, now decidedly nosy about her family history. In fact, as soon as she could, she was going to go rifle through the attic for pictures of them all.

"I can't remember all of them. There was Jack, Leo and a girl…I can't remember. I think it was Helen." Annie cringed at being saddled with the name "Helen."

"Not Lockwood though, right?"

"No…since Sophie was the Lockwood, her name would have been changed." Her father's eyebrows furrowed. "What was it? I think their last name is Wyndham if I'm not mistaken." Dad smiled, thinking back fondly. "Why the sudden interest?"

"I don't know…just curious, I guess. I was just talking about family history with one of my…" She stopped herself, careful of what she was saying, "friends, and I realized I don't know anything about ours."

"They were quite a colorful bunch from what my mother told me." Her father said. "They all lived such fulfilling lives. Sophie and her husband traveled for a few years."

"What was his name?" Annie asked, hoping that one day she could say she was part of a 'colorful' bunch.

"Actually, I have no clue." He H He laughed. "Guess I'm getting old too."

"Forty-six?" Annie teased, grinning at her father. "Practically decrepit."

"Hey!" He protested good-naturedly. "I still have my hair at least."

"Yes, there is that." Annie agreed, laughing and ruffling her father's dark hair before leaving the room. Discreetly, she picked up the cordless phone and dialed a number she had memorized since the night before. A little girl answered.

"Hello?" Annie smiled, despite herself. This must be the infamous Mandy.

"Hi, is Strat home?" She asked, feeling her heartbeat in her ears.

"Yep." The girl replied. "_Strat!_" She screamed away from the phone, making Annie snicker. "Phone call!" The child's voice turned to teasing. "It's a _girl._" Annie could hear the little girl making kissing noises at her older brother.

"Oh my God, _stop._" She heard him groan on the other end before picking up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Strat." Annie said, trying not to sound like she was out of breath. She could actually _hear_ him smile on the other side.

"Hey, Annie…you might not believe this, but I was just going to call you." He chuckled.

"Really?" She asked, feeling her heartbeat turn erratic.

"Yeah…my mother is insisting I invite you over for dinner this afternoon." Another nervous laugh left him. "Before you run the other way screaming because I've broken every rule of dating by inviting you to meet my family on the second date—"

"I'd love to come!" Annie blurted, feeling her face become very hot all of a sudden. Strat wanted her to meet his parents. After one date.

It _was_ her Strat.

"Oh thank _God_." He breathed, sounding as if he were sagging in relief against a counter or a wall. "Most girls would have been like 'Um, no thanks stalker.'" He said, imitating a girl's voice and making her laugh out loud.

"I'm not like most girls." She insisted. _You, of all people, know that._

"I know." Strat replied, sounding completely happy with that fact. "So, I will pick you up this afternoon. Around two?"

"That's perfect…two days in a row." Annie mused, unable to wipe the silly grin off of her face. She could hear him smile again.

"I'll see you in a little while, Annie, I—" He stopped himself. "I'll see you then." Annie had to lean against her dresser for support, wondering what he had been about to say. They said goodbye and hung up. Annie nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw her mother standing in her bedroom doorway.

"_Mom!_"Annie cried, dropping the cordless phone. "You scared me!" Amelia Lockwood smiled.

"Sorry, sweetie. Who was that?"

"Um, that was…it's just—" Annie turned a violent shade of red.

"A boy." Mom finished for her. Annie nodded helplessly. "Making plans?"

"He invited me over to meet his family this afternoon. I mean, I know you just got back and all, but—"

"Go." Amelia said, crossing to her and kissing Annie's cheek. "Be nineteen. Have fun. Lord knows I'd rather see you spending time with a boy your age than alone in museums and art galleries." Her mother sighed, sitting on the edge of Annie's bed and patted the seat beside her. Annie quickly obliged.

"I've seen how introverted you've become these past few years, Annie. Ever since you broke up with Sean before your sophomore year."

"Mom, that has _nothing_ to do with Sean." She assured Amelia. "I just changed."

"You grew up." Her mother agreed. "And I never dreamed how beautiful you would be. But you are…so I am glad to hear you're out dating again." Annie sighed.

"What about Dad? You know how he is with boys—"

"Leave him to me, sweetheart." Amelia assured her, giving Annie's shoulders a squeeze. "Now, what'll you wear?" Mom asked, rising and throwing Annie's closet open.

"I guess just jeans. I mean, it's a barbeque." Annie pointed out, laughing at her mother's enthusiasm.

An hour later, Annie was dressed in her newest pair of jeans with a button down shirt and a light beige jacket. Her waist length hair had been braided by her mother. If her father had reservations about her date, he did not voice them. In fact, Dad was being more agreeable than he'd ever been with her that way. Tod had finally come home after practice and, as usual, had disappeared up into his room. The muffled sound of music coming out of his stereo came from above.

"He's so quiet now." Amelia mused aloud, while they all waited for Lockwood to arrive. "I haven't seen him happy since Devonny went back to England." Her eyes were soft. "I think he liked her." Annie made a noise of acknowledgement, but said nothing since she'd been out of the country at the time and was supposed to know nothing about the "British" foreign exchange student. Her dad kept his eyes on the television, knowing it was better if he kept out of any discussion about that time in their lives.

Luckily, the doorbell rang. Annie practically leapt across the room to answer it, glad for a distraction from her older brother's failed love life. She threw the door open breathlessly, unable to deny the thrill of relief she felt at the sight of Lockwood Stratton standing there.

"Hi." He said. Annie was vaguely away that her parents were looking expectantly toward them. She reached for Strat's hand and pulled him inside.

"You get to meet my parents too." She informed him. "Sorry." She added, under her breath. Strat chuckled, smiling at her parents when they came over to meet them. He shook her father's hand first.

"Lockwood Stratton." He introduced himself with confidence. "But I go by Strat."

"Your first name is Lockwood?" Amelia asked, eyebrows raised as she gave her husband a sideways glance. Annie's father looked surprised.

"Yes. It's actually how Annie and I met. She told me her name and I told her mine and we laughed." He replied easily. Annie had to admit that she was impressed with the way he was able to talk to her parents.

"How old are you, Strat?" Her father asked, crossing his arms. Annie rolled her eyes.

"Dad." She warned through gritted teeth. Strat was not worried, it seemed.

"Twenty-one." He answered, and that's when Annie noticed him swallow. She almost smirked, because he'd been so calm this whole time. He must have been nervous after all.

"Two years apart." Annie said pointedly, giving her mother a desperate look. Amelia laced her fingers through her husband's. "We're leaving now." She began to pull Strat toward the door.

"Not too late, Annie." Her father said authoritatively. Annie glared at him.

"I'm nineteen, _Father._" She insisted.

"You two go have fun!" Amelia insisted, waving them out. Annie snatched her purse off of the chair and practically shoved Strat out the front door.

"Sorry. He's an idiot sometimes." Annie sighed once they were in the car. Strat's light eyes were kind.

"He loves you, Annie. No shame in that." Reaching across, Annie's heart leapt into her throat when he took her hand. They kept easy conversation on the short drive to his parents' modest two story house. He told her about how he would be graduating from school in a little over a year. He was apparently studying photography, which was almost too perfect.

"Okay." He said, opening the car door for he (to her protests), "I'm going to warn you. My sister is a sugar junky and is probably going to ask you a million questions. My mom is not much better." Annie stepped aside so that he could shut the car door.

"Oh, I don't mind. If you can survive my family, yours is nothing! We'll talk dysfunction later." She quirked an eyebrow at him playfully. "Deal?"

"Deal." Strat beamed, offering her his arm. She stared at him a moment, shaking her head to get the image of him a hundred years before out of her head, before she took his arm.

"Classy." She heard herself tease. An adorable pink blush colored his tanned cheeks, but he did not stop smiling. His little sister must have been waiting for them, since she flung the door open before he had even had a chance to touch the doorknob. Annie could not hold back a smile at the sight of her, all blonde curls and big, blue eyes. Truth be told, she _did _remind Annie of Devonny. Of course, she _was_ her great-granddaughter.

"Spying as usual, Amanda Jane?" Strat asked his little sister, reaching out to ruffle her hair. The girl let out a sound of protest.

"You're stupid!" She said, fixing her hair and turning her attention to Annie. "Don't call me Amanda. I'm Mandy, okay?"

"Okay." Annie agreed, shaking her small hand. "I'm Anna Sophia, but everyone calls me Annie."

"Annie is my favorite movie!" Mandy said excitedly, referring to the musical film with the red haired orphan and Daddy Warbucks.

"I like that one too." Annie assured her, giving the kid her biggest smile. She could not help but adore the pretty little girl.

"Alright, time to leave your brother's friend alone, kiddo!" A man said, coming into the room. Annie looked at who could only be Strat's father. They resembled each other greatly, with their sandy brown hair. Of course, Strat's father had brown eyes and his hair was thinning just slightly, but overall, he was a handsome guy. Not to mention, he seemed really nice. "Hi. Bill Stratton." He said, reaching to shake Annie's hand. She had to admit, she was relieved that he did not look like a walrus. The thought of Hiram Stratton Sr. having to be broken out of his own home was a grotesque vision.

"Annie Lockwood." She told him, looking back at Strat, who looked completely confused for a second.

"Sorry, I'm just having the strangest feeling of déjà vu." He admitted, running a hand through his messy hair.

"You'd better take her in to meet Mom before she has a fit." Bill Stratton told his son before smiling kindly at Annie again. "Welcome, Annie." He turned away and she could hear him as they walked away. "Amanda Jane, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. Put your Barbies away when you are done."

Annie was then guided into the kitchen, where a lovely, light haired woman was chopping vegetables. She was shorter than Annie had expected with hazel eyes.

"Mom." Strat said, getting her attention. The lady looked up and clapped her hands excitedly.

"_Finally_." She replied, setting her knife and the onion aside. "This is great." Mrs. Stratton told Annie, grinning from ear to ear. "You have to understand – my son was beginning to worry me with his lack of interest in anything but video games and terrible movies."

"_Mom._" Strat groaned, covering his face with his hand. Annie swallowed a giggle, shaking the woman's hand.

"Annie Lockwood." She said, eyes widening when the woman did her one better and pulled her into a motherly embrace.

"Welcome, _welcome_, Annie." Mrs. Stratton replied. "I'm Fiona. Please call me Fiona."

"Hey Fiona, can we get something to drink?" Strat said, poking his mother in the shoulder. She swatted at him, pretending to be irritated. It was obvious the woman absolutely adored her son.

"There is Coke in the fridge. I assume you remember where that is."

"Refresh my memory…" Strat joked, eliciting a death look from his mother. "Kidding! Do you want one, Anna Sophia?" Annie almost fell over, but somehow managed to keep her wits.

"No thanks, _Lockwood_." He let out a noise of distaste.

"Really Mom, what _were_ you thinking when you two decided to name me Lockwood?"

"It's a family name, honey." Fiona answered, chopping onions again. "Your Grandpa was named Lockwood."

"Yeah, and he was born _when?_ Oh yeah, in 1906!" Strat reminded her.

"Oh, you…" His mother said, not really paying attention anymore. "Annie, Strat has been talking about you all week. He was so excited about meeting you. I could hardly believe he went to that Egypt exhibit." She laughed. "You have to understand. Lockwood Stratton is _not_ interested in history. To realize that he went to the museum, much less because he was _related _to a photographer, was astounding to us."

"Mom." Strat pleaded again, handing Annie a Coke. He looked down at her in apology, making a gesture to indicate that his mother was crazy.

"Well it was." Mrs. Stratton pointed out. "He's been a different person since that day." Strat looked extremely uncomfortable then, making Annie feel bad for him.

"Hey, didn't you say you wanted to show me something outside?" Annie asked, flitting her eyes to the open door wall in the kitchen. His light eyes filled with gratitude.

"Actually, yes." He replied, sounding weirdly proper. Even his mother looked up with an eyebrow raised. "Mother is extremely proud of her garden."

"_Mother?"_ Fiona cried, chuckling incredulously. Her green and amber eyes were alight with amusement. "Bill! Get the video camera! "Our son just called me 'Mother.'" Strat grabbed Annie's arm.

"Time to leave the kitchen." He muttered, rolling his eyes. Fiona looked positively tickled, watching them go. Annie liked the woman immensely. "Sorry." He said when they were alone outside.

"For what? She's awesome!" Annie exclaimed. "Your whole family is so cute!"

"Cute?" He grumbled. "That's one way to describe them."

"So, you're eleven years older than Mandy?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Oh. Yeah." He said, sounding normal again. "My parents were completely surprised when Mom got pregnant again. I was already in middle school when she was born, so naturally, there was not much tension."

"That's so funny…" Annie said. "My parents had Tod and then I came a year later. We were always very close even though Tod is kind of a dork."

"He seems cool." Strat agreed, sipping his soda. Annie studied his lovely face, noticing with a touch of alarm, that there were dark circles under his light blue eyes.

"You haven't been sleeping, have you?" She asked, reaching up to touch his smooth cheek. His eyes widened, almost in a sort of panic.

"It's been a really long week. I just started my junior year of college. Studying late, not to mention the crazy dreams." He told her, drinking and making Annie realize that her Coke was getting warm. She took a long swig, letting the fizzy liquid tickle her throat.

"What kind of crazy dreams?" She inquired casually, careful not to stand too close.

"Oh, just _random_ strange things." Strat sighed. "You've been in and out of them…but then things are intermixed with people I've never seen and things I've never done. Places I've certainly never been. My mother swears it's because I eat junk food before bed. But, they're _so_ real. It's awful…and sometimes not awful. Sometimes, I'm trapped in this place and I can get out. Other times, I'm laughing and joking around with a couple of girls, who I do not recognize, but I _know_ them, you know?"

"Oh, totally." Annie managed to choke out. "I had a dream once that I was playing hide and seek in a cherry orchard with my brother, only it wasn't Tod, and I've never been to a cherry orchard. And I wasn't a kid." She bit her lip, giggling at herself.

"Exactly." Strat said, smiling again and making her feel better. "And it's not always bad, but it's so tiring. I wake up more tired than I was when I went to sleep!" He ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit. She watched in wonder when he took her hand in his.

"Annie, I don't want to freak you out, and I know it's only been one date—" Her heart began to thump furiously in her chest, though she had no idea what he was going to say. "—I can't stop thinking about you. It's really starting to scare me. I close my eyes and I see your face. I feel like I've known you for years!"

"I feel the same way." Annie agreed huskily. "Like we've known each other all our lives."

"Or longer." Strat nodded. "Ready to bolt yet?" He asked, nudging her gently. Despite her burning eyes, Annie managed a shy smile.

"Nope. You'll have to do better than that, Strat."

"Okay." He said, accepting her challenge. "I keep looking over my shoulder and I don't know why. I'm so afraid you're going to disappear on me."

"Not going anywhere." Annie responded weakly. "Still have to do better than that."

"Okay." Strat agreed, meeting her eyes squarely. "I think I'm in love with you."

Annie Lockwood fainted.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm really sorry if this gets confusing. It's hard to call Lockwood by his name since he goes by "Strat**

Lockwood Stratton had never been a romantic. His biggest concern a few weeks earlier had been how he was going to pay for school books and whether or not he was going to beat _Donkey Kong 64._ So, it was definitely a milestone in his life when he'd met Annie Lockwood at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and had finally seen what all of his friends had been talking about when they said they were "in love." He'd _had_ girlfriends…that wasn't the issue. It was the fact that he'd never particularly _needed_ to see any of them.

In the week since he'd met Annie, he constantly wondered when he would see or talk to her next. It was unnerving, this pathetic longing he got in his chest every time he saw her face or simply heard her voice over the phone. And yet, it was not completely unfamiliar to him, though how he was unsure. He knew he'd never met Annie before that week, but his mind didn't seem to. Strange flashes of unfamiliar things had plagued him constantly over the seven days since they'd spoken.

Every time he'd closed his eyes, he saw faces. So many unknown, but familiar faces. His sister had told him this morning that he had been crying out for someone to help him, that it was dark. He hadn't remembered any of the dream, but he'd flown out of the bed and stared into the mirror, checking his wrists for shackles that weren't there.

When he'd admitted to his mother that he had met someone, she had dropped a dinner plate. Strat knew that she didn't really have high expectations for him to meet a nice girl anytime soon since most of his time was spent taking pictures and playing Nintendo. She always said that he would never meet a girl sitting in front of his T.V.

His father hadn't really seemed concerned with any of it, until Strat had all of a sudden decided that it would be a good idea to run a brush through his hair and wear a shirt that had not only been washed, but had also been ironed. Bill Stratton had given his wife a look of triumph and had congratulated his twenty-one year old son.

"Strat." Fiona had said, when he was getting ready to leave for his first date with Annie the day before, "You will open the car door for her. And pull out her chair and, for goodness sake, offer her your arm when you walk into the restaurant." Her hazel eyes were blazing with intensity, but she looked hopeful, which was a nice change from looking disappointed. "If you make me look bad to that girl, I will have to smack you upside the head." Fiona had then kissed his cheek and smiled. "Love you!"

If that wasn't a lot to live up to, Strat didn't know what was.

Which brought him to his present predicament. He'd just caused Annie Lockwood to faint. In his mother's garden.

Crap.

It had just slipped out. When he thought about it in the future, he was sure he would laugh. It was utterly ridiculous. He'd just told a girl he'd met three times that he was in love with her. No big deal there, right?

Wrong.

What had he been _thinking?_ What had possessed him to blurt that out? It had been the strangest, out of body experience as if someone else had slipped into his brain and had said the words. But he'd meant them. Which was another confusing thing.

Sinking to kneel in the grass, he gently turned her over, trying not to panic. With a gulp, he patted her pretty pink cheek and leaned close to her ear.

"Annie?" No response.

_Sweet Lord, do not let Mom or Mandy look out the window._

"Hey, Annie." He said a little louder. Thankfully, her eyes opened and the clear blue irises slowly focused on his face. "Oh my God, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to knock you out!" He tried to joke, but couldn't even manage a smile. Embarrassed, Annie sat up and shook her head vigorously.

"That's twice in two days, Buddy." She playfully accused, smacking him in the chest and letting him help her to her feet.

"I didn't mean to scare you." He assured her, putting an arm around her shoulders to support her. Glancing back at the house, there was no sign of movement which, in his opinion, was a good thing.

"You didn't." She told him, smoothing her hair. "Apparently, I'm a weak and simpering fool." Strat could not help himself, he grinned. Annie pretended to give him a reproachful look. "Don't laugh at me."

"I would not dream of laughing at you, Miss Lockwood." He replied earnestly, making her stare at him oddly yet again. "I say the stupidest stuff when I'm around you. I'm not very good with these kinds of things." She did not reply to this, only smiled at the ground. "You're never going to call me again, are you?" He chuckled when she swatted at him.

"Of course I am." She said, turning the prettiest shade of pink. "Tell me Strat. How did you get your nickname? I mean how did you come to be called just 'Strat'?"

"My great-grandmother insisted." He told her. "She was still alive when I was born and when my parents brought me to meet her, she told Dad that I was going to be called 'Strat.' It just stuck." Annie's face suddenly went pale.

"How sweet." She whispered. If he hadn't known any better, he would have said that her eyes were shining with tears.

"Please don't." He pleaded, lurching forward to draw her into a tight embrace. "I don't do well with crying girls." He felt her laugh against his chest. "You okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine." She said, sniffing quietly. "Simpering, remember?" Her head lifted then and she looked up at him. The urge to kiss her was overwhelming.

"_I no longer believe that my father's money is worth having and I will make no attempt to be his heir or his son. I know now what has worth." _

"_Love has worth." Annie said tearfully. "And we love each other." _

"_Oh yes." He agreed, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Oh yes, we do love each other." He kissed her then, a magnificent, heartbreaking kiss. He could feel the wetness of her tears on her face. "I have debts, Annie, and I must pay them. My greatest debt is to you, for saving me. For bringing me to Harriett in time. I can never repay that." His voice broke. "I can never even try. But there is one debt I can repay." A long, ragged sigh left him. "I want my previous life to be history. "_

"_History." She repeated numbly, looking completely devastated. It was almost too much to bear, seeing that expression on her delicate, lovely face. _

"_That's what I am to you, anyway, Annie. You told me yourself. You looked me up in archives. Ancient dusty places where records of deal people lie." _

"_You're not there." She whispered, trembling. "You disappeared from the written record. I couldn't find you there. You are __**not**__ in the archives, Strat. You are not in history." _

"Strat! Annie! Food is ready!" Fiona called from the doorway into the kitchen. Strat let go of Annie, heart thumping wildly and tried to breathe. The world was spinning. He stood, rooted to the spot with bemusement.

"Strat?" Annie's gentle voice slipped into his catatonic mind, bringing him back to the present. He looked at her face, with her big, worried blue eyes. He could not bring himself to relax, even when she squeezed his hand.

"I'm sorry, Annie." He told her, gritting his teeth against the awful despair he was still feeling after the horrid vision he'd just had. "I'm so _sorry._ For everything." Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her hand tightened on his arm.

"You didn't _do_ anything, Strat." She insisted. "How can you be sorry?"

"I don't know." He gasped. "I don't _know_." Turning away from her, he ran a frantic hand through his thick hair. "I'm freaking out…I'm having some kind of a nervous breakdown."

"You need to get some _sleep_." Annie pointed out, remembering that he'd admitted his recent trouble.

"Yeah, I guess." He allowed, though the thump of panic did not leave his heart. His eyes fell to the glossy braid that was hanging over her shoulder. Reaching out, he touched it. "You have the prettiest hair." He told her truthfully. Annie's eyes were wide, but she shrugged, trying to remain casual.

"I use Pantene." She told him, taking his hand. "Come on. Let's eat." Strat let her lead him into his house toward his family and dinner. Eventually, the thrumming of his heart slowed and he was able to joke and laugh with everyone, but something had changed within him. _He_ was not the same Strat he'd been last week.

And that terrified him.

* * *

It was hot this morning. Strat awoke matted with sweat. He looked down, realizing that he had slept with nothing on other than his drawers. Glancing around the tent, he made sure that no one was around before throwing the thin blanket off of himself and standing up. Carefully, he planted his bare feet into the sand and stood, sighing in relief when he didn't feel sick as he had the day before.

He could hear the muffled voices of Camilla and Dr. Lightner talking softly to each other outside the tent, remembering vaguely that they were now in love. How nice for them both. Strat pulled on his clothes hastily, trying to wipe the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his equally sweaty hand. Poking his head outside, he saw Camilla and Archibald talking nearby, but swiftly walked in the other direction. He moved to the tent where they usually ate their meals and heard the sound of humming. Female.

Strat quickly remembered that there was another girl among them all now, Mrs. Sophia Hume. The girl who would torment him with the face that was identical to Annie Lockwood's. Swallowing his heartbreak, he bent and stepped through the flap of the tent, seeing her dark head bent over something. As it had been before, she had her hair perfectly pinned, so unlike Annie's had always been. She turned around, hearing him come in and smile warmly.

"Mr. Stratton!" Her voice was like music. "You must be feeling so much better!" The smile on her face was brilliant. "You certainly look better! Come, have some breakfast!"

"Did you cook this?" He asked, looking at the makeshift breakfast table laden with eggs and toast and what appeared to be bacon.

"Yes." She admitted sheepishly, wiping her hands on her apron. "Henry always says I'm a nurturer. It's in my nature to take care of people." Setting a plate and fork in front of him, she gestured for Strat to help himself. His eyes fell again to the wedding ring on Sophie's finger and he felt his stomach clench in something that could only be described as jealousy. Pushing it away, he took a bite of the eggs and bacon and sighed in contentment.

It had been ages since he'd had a proper meal.

Sophia settled into the seat across from him and drank delicately out of a mug. Her smiling eyes met his.

"Coffee." She admitted. "I love it." Camilla giggled from outside and Sophia blushed. "Ah, the lovebirds." She chuckled. "I'm so glad she's found him."

"Mmm." Strat said in agreement, his mouth full of Sophie's meal. He realized, with a start, that she was staring intensely at him. "Do I have some on my face?" He asked in horror, knowing he wasn't exactly a model of manners at this point. Sophie's eyes lit up with amusement.

"No." She laughed. "I was just remembering you from before."

"What do you mean?" Strat asked cautiously.

"I've seen you before, in town." She informed him, sipping her coffee again. "I used to see you walking with your friends. Anna and I always thought that you all were so elegant." Strat's blood turned to ice. She had seen him before? And he'd never noticed her. If he'd seen her in town after he'd met Annie, he would have run after her. The resemblance was too striking.

"You did?" He managed to get out. She nodded.

"Before I married Christopher, and before Anna and Henry ever thought of each other in that way, we would imagine what it would have been like to be invited to a ball at the mansion."

"It was nothing special, I can assure you." Strat said flatly, remembering the vapid conversations, the stupid strolls through silly gardens. He hadn't cared about anything important then…other than the fact that he would have to propose to Harriett, whom he had loved so dearly as a friend.

It was still a matter of extreme guilt for him.

"I can't believe I don't remember seeing you around town." He said regretfully, pulling another musical laugh from her.

"It was always from afar, Mr. Stratton—"

"Strat." He corrected her, hating his name.

"Strat…" She answered, albeit hesitantly.

"I've never even been to a ball. Henry and Anna's wedding was lovely, but it was not the same."

"We'll go to one, sometime." He promised her, making her give him a skeptical look even though she said nothing in response. Instead, she busied herself cleaning up and putting the meager dishes into the wash basin. Strat noticed that one of her pristine, perfect locks of hair had come loose from her braided coiffure, and he was filled with the same maddening need to touch it as he had been with Annie's hair.

"So what are your plans for today, Mrs. Hume?" Strat asked, changing the subject. A short, breathy laugh escaped her, making him dizzy.

"I really don't know. I want to go see the pyramids, but I don't know the first thing—"

"I could take you." He blurted. Sophia whirled around, eyes open wide. He saw her swallow hard.

"Alone?" She whispered, looking scandalized. Strat burst out laughing. She was definitely not the Annie he knew, who would have been tickled to be alone with him. Everything about Sophie screamed Annie Lockwood though. _Everything._ Her smell. Her eyes…her sweet, full lipped smile.

"If it would make you more comfortable, I can see if Camilla will come with us." He told her, moving to look down into her beautiful face. Blankly, she nodded.

"Yes, Camilla…" She responded vaguely. "You're taller than I thought."

"I'm sorry?" He replied, quirking an eyebrow at her. She blinked rapidly in her own confusion.

"You're taller than you seemed like you would be lying down." She repeated, looking very guilty all of a sudden. "Sorry."

"Sorry? For what?" He asked softly, wanting to pull her close and smell her just to see if she compared to the vaguely vanilla scent of Annie. He had the sneaking suspicion if he tried, she would run the other way screaming. Sophia was not ready to be held by anyone, least of all Strat. It had been two years since she'd lost her husband, but the pain was all still there at the forefront of her mind.

Strat realized that he desperately wanted to be the one to help her through it.

If he had learned anything from loving and losing Annie, it was that second chances were few. Somehow, he would help Sophia find Annie inside herself and somehow, things would finally work out. They had to, didn't they?

* * *

Lockwood Stratton threw his car keys on the table in the living room and sank into a chair. His mother looked up at him expectantly, her hazel eyes bright with mischief.

"She's lovely, Strat." Fiona gushed, looking over at his father, who was trying to figure out how to put batteries into the T.V. remote. "Wasn't she, Bill?"

"Huh?" His father asked, looking up in mild confusion. At his wife's pointed stare, he nodded quickly. "Oh, yes. She's great!" He agreed, giving his son an approving look. "Definitely better than that girl you took to your junior prom."

"Dad!" Strat groaned, wondering why they must bring up people he no longer talked to or cared for. It had been Stacy Fabray, a girl he'd dated for maybe two seconds. She'd been blonde and dumb and if you could get a word in between her chattering, you were a lucky person.

"Oh, we'll have to have her over again next weekend," Fiona was saying, mostly to herself. "Maybe we can see if her parents want to come—"

"Easy, Fiona." Strat cut into his mother's musings. "Let's not go picking out china yet, okay? It's been _two_ dates. Two." He gave her a look. "Annie is nineteen years old. I'm only twenty-one. I don't want to scare her away."

"You really _do_ like her." Bill Stratton said in surprise. Strat shrugged, not ready to voice the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling.

"I feel like I've been looking for something for a long time now." He admitted to his mother and father, who then shared a look between themselves. "When I'm around Annie, I don't feel like looking anymore." And that's when his mother started crying.

"That's beautiful!" She cried. Strat buried his face in his hands, frustrated, before he rose off of the chair and began to flee.

"Good_night_." He said, thinking of sinking into his bed facedown and letting himself fall into a deep slumber. Until he remembered that tomorrow was Monday and he had a test in the morning.

Damn.

Mandy poked her head out of her bedroom, crossing her arms and staring him down.

"What?" He asked her tiredly.

"Annie said I could come to the soccer game tomorrow. Can we go?" She demanded, glaring up at him. Strat vaguely remembered that they'd talked about it during dinner. Weakly he nodded.

"Sure kid. Whatever. Just leave me alone and you can have anything you want." He mumbled, patting her head before opening the door to his bedroom.

"Can I paint your nails?" She asked hopefully, to which he gave her a very dry look.

"No _way._" He shut the door behind him.

* * *

**I'm trying to develop a modern personality for Strat and still keep him true to himself. The memories are going to keep coming. I'm toying with some ideas for poor Tod too. Haven't figured it out yet. Thank you for reading. Reviews are fun too. Just be gentle. It's hard to live up to Ms. Cooney's writing. **


	5. Chapter 5

"No, no! Cady! Wrong goal! _Wrong_ goal!" Tod cried, waving his arms at the proud little red haired girl who was about the kick the ball into her own goal. Annie grinned affectionately, standing beside her brother and helping him to administer juice boxes and water to the girls. "Oh God, she's going for it." Tod muttered, even though he did not look angry. In fact, if Annie were guessing, she'd say he was on the verge of laughter. It was a nice change. The only time she ever saw him smile anymore was when he was with his girls.

Luckily, the team goalie, Sara, was standing in the way and got pelted in the face with Cady's ball. She immediately began to bawl her eyes out.

"_Damn._" Tod moaned, sprinting out onto the field along with the girl's mother and kneeling beside her. It amazed Annie how sweet he was with the kids when he was such an idiot at home, sometimes. "Jo!" He called, pointing at Joanne, who was playing with a blade of grass. "You're in, Sport!" He walked off the field as everyone clapped with Sara and her mother. Turning to Annie, he sighed. "I swear these girls are going to be the death of me, Annie."

Annie laughed and bent in front of the red faced six year old, who was wrapped around her mother like a scarf.

"Juice?" She asked gently. The little girl nodded with big, watery eyes, sucking her thumb. Annie carefully opened the straw and put it into the foil drink wrapper.

"Thanks." Her mother said appreciatively. Annie smiled at her, nodding. When she stood up, she noticed two figures. A small, blonde haired figure and a tall, sandy haired one. Annie swallowed, realizing that Strat and Mandy had come. He looked a little better than he had the day before. The dark circles underneath his eyes had lessened and his eyes were lit up with enthusiasm. Waving them over, she was surprised when Mandy launched into her arms.

"Hey!" She said, excitedly, meeting Strat's eyes over the ten year old's head. A small smile played at his lips.

"Darn kid threatened me with nail polish if I didn't bring her." He quipped, moving around the small form of his little sister to kiss Annie on the cheek. She held her breath, turning very warm.

"It comes off, you know." She told him, winking at Mandy, who snickered before looking up at Tod. Annie's brother was pacing back and forth, shaking his head.

"_Come_ on, Liss." He prayed, watching intensely as a dark haired girl broke away and was heading toward the correct goal. With some luck, the little girl got the ball into the other team's goal, which made the score 1-0. Tod let out a great whoop of joy, turning toward Annie and noticing Strat and Mandy, who was staring curiously at him while chomping on a potato chip from the small bag that she'd brought with her.

"Are you winning?" She asked him, big blue eyes shining. He stared at her as if she were some variety of extraterrestrial for a moment before nodding.

"Yep. We are now. My girls are coming back."

"I play baseball." She informed Tod proudly, who looked back at her impatiently.

"Technically, you play softball." Strat corrected her.

"That's awesome, Kid." Tod replied quickly, before he jumped forward again. "No! Lex! Get her!" At the sound of her name, Alexa turned and waved excitedly at her beloved coach, making Annie's heart melt as she giggled. Tod ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Poor Tod. These little ones just don't get it." She informed Strat in amusement. Even he seemed enchanted by the funny little girls running back and forth, but not really knowing what to do or where to go. "He's so patient with them."

"Aw, come _on_!" Tod said as two of the little girls got into an argument over which shirt color was prettier – hot purple or hot green? "Who _cares?_ Jess, get back in the game!"

Beside her, Strat laughed aloud.

"Someone should tape this." He said. Annie leaned over to him.

"They _do_." She indicated the parents who had video cameras attached to their faces.

"Oh, that is _such _bull—"

"Tod!"Annie cried, smacking her brother. He stopped himself.

"—crap."

"You take care of your brother, don't you?" Strat observed, affectionately.

"Yeah. Someone has to." Annie retorted, watching Tod now do a small victory dance as the game ended. They had won! By accident, of course, but a win was a win. Tod was practically crying tears of bliss as he patted all of his girls on their backs.

"Go slap hands with the other team!" He reminded them, nodding toward the field. The girls all excitedly bounced back onto the green, chattering madly. Tod returned to them, triumphant, with a grin like she hadn't seen in a long time on his face. To her shock, he pulled her into a tight hug.

"Congrats!" She exclaimed happily, hugging him back. He pulled away and Mandy stared up at him

"Nice job, Coach!" She said, giving him her widest smile. Tod, despite himself, held his hand out for her to slap.

"Thanks, kid."

"My _name_ is Mandy." She informed him pointedly, almost haughtily. Tod feigned guilt.

"Oh _dear_, how will I ever live with myself now?" He asked, hand to face. Mandy beamed, sensing that Tod was kidding with her. So, in one afternoon, Tod had finally gotten his girls to win a soccer game and had successfully made a ten year old adore him. That did not bode well for his dating chances. Tod turned back to the parents, accepting all of the praise that he rightfully deserved.

Annie turned to Strat, who was instructing Mandy that she'd better stay close.

"I'm ten years old." She protested to which her big brother rolled his eyes.

"Yep. And I'm twenty-one. I win." He folded his arms. Mandy scowled at him, but turned her attention back to her new hero. Tod.

"Oh God, what is she thinking, setting her sights on my emotionally damaged older brother?" Annie joked, though it was nice to see Tod enjoying himself for once. "Of course, they're the same age maturity wise."

"Some girl messed him up, didn't she?" Strat said.

_Buddy, you have no idea. Your dead great-granny, in fact. Or your sister, I can't keep up!_

"Yep." Was her only response. A moment later, she felt his warm hand envelope hers and turned, with a start, to face him.

"I hope this is okay." He said, caressing the top of her hand with his thumb. Managing to curve her lips, she nodded. "Annie, what are we?" His eyes betrayed the nervousness. Taking pity on him, she squeezed his hand.

"What do you want us to be?"

"I can't answer that." He breathed.

"Why?" It was a challenge. A test.

"The answer would scare you off." His voice was very low, filling the pit of her stomach with butterflies. "Just tell me this: Are we a...a thing?"

"Strat," She sighed, defeated. "We're _everything._"

She was mildly surprised, and definitely blushing when his lips pressed down against hers, exerting the softest, sweetest pressure. Involuntarily, her fists closed around the fabric of his corduroy coat.

"Ew!" Mandy cried, making them quickly pull apart. When they met eyes again, they both began to laugh, still holding hands, until they were hysterical with glee. Tears ran down Annie's face as she continued to giggle so hard that her stomach hurt. Mandy looked up at Tod skeptically and shook her head.

"What a couple of _weirdoes_."

"You said it, kid." Tod agreed, rolling his eyes.

* * *

Sophia Hume was sure of three things.

One: She looked ridiculous in riding breeches and felt positively naked. It was an alarming new trend, for women to ride astride like men. One that, she was sure her father would not have approved of.

Two: She was not wearing a corset underneath said riding apparel, which was even _more_ indecent.

And Three: Sophie was terrified of the look on Mr. Stratton's face when she emerged from the tent, wearing this get-up and what that might mean.

Hiram Stratton Jr. was a wonderfully handsome man, with the tanned complexion and chiseled features that all girls raved about. With his unshaven face and brilliant ocean blue eyes, and light brown hair, he was lovely to look at. He was much broader than Christopher had been, which was surprising, since he'd grown up a privileged boy, who had seen little labor, she was sure.

Though Sophie had loved Christopher, she had never felt a pull to him. She'd never had a need to be near him all the time the way that her brother and Anna seemed to. Christopher had never looked at her as if he wanted to devour her. With him, it had always been calm and settled and quiet. They'd never argued, which most would say was a good thing, but Sophie loved a good debate. She knew she was smart. Her father had made sure of that.

Not that she and Christopher hadn't suited. They'd been terrific friends and got on famously. He'd been very sweet, though somewhat soft spoken. They'd been able to talk to each other with ease and had been very fond of each other. When Henry had come to their home that night, she'd known right away something was terribly wrong. Christopher had been four hours late, which was very unlike him. She had just been settling into bed, when she'd been jolted up by a rapping at the door. Flying through the house, she opened the door to see her older brother staring forlornly down at her. He'd uttered two words.

"Christopher's dead." She'd fallen against him, letting him hold her while her heart felt like it had been stomped into the wood of the floor. Her whole world had fallen apart and she didn't know _why._ Worse yet, she found out he'd been _murdered. _Who on Earth would ever want to hurt Christopher Hume? He'd never raised his voice to anyone, not even to her.

The worst had been identifying his body for the police. She'd heaved until the contents of her stomach were spilled into a trash bin. Henry had had to carry her out of the morgue and to his home, where she let his wife take care of her. She had stayed on with them, since Father had been gone for over a year.

The first year without Christopher had been the hardest. Every beat of her heart seemed to ache, the sharpest dagger through it. And she was so terribly _guilty._ For what? Not loving him enough? As if that could have saved him. For wishing sometimes that he were different? For letting silly daydreams get the better of her, sometimes? Or was it, perhaps, that Sophie was guilty because _she _had lived on while Christopher was dead, gone and decaying in the ground?

It had been nearly unbearable, being so near to Anna and Henry, who were wildly in love. It shocked her to the brother whom had always been so serious, stealing kisses from the girl who Sophie had shared all of her secrets with. It seemed like they always had to be touching. They could communicate with mere glances. It broke Sophie's heart to know she would never experience that sort of love. Not even with Christopher, who had been so wonderful and _good_, had she ever felt that way for him.

Finally, after the second year without her husband, though the hurt had dimmed to a dull ache, her brother finally could take it no more. He saw that she was still damaged. The pain was in the background, quieter yes, but always present. Sophie _hated_ being damaged. It made her feel weak. And she wasn't weak! She wanted to be strong! She _wanted_ to be whole again.

And so, when she had received a letter from Camilla Mateusz, whom she had known for some years and had been friends with, she'd decided it was the perfect solution. What better way to heal, than to leave the place where her pain was so omnipresent, so overwhelming, and escape to the wonders of Egypt? Sophie had never even been outside the state, much less the country.

Henry had readily given her the money to go, happy to see her inspired. He had only really consented, however, since he knew she would be with Camilla. Not to mention, widows had much more freedom than unmarried girls. No one had questioned her, though she had received one or two propositions from men, which was slightly unnerving.

Which brought them to the present. Sophie had arrived at the camp, where Camilla had immediately introduced an older man as her new fiancé. Directly following that, two British soldiers arrived with the limp body of a young man, who was unconscious. They had been attacked by a crocodile while sailing. Without hesitating, Sophie had made it her task to nurse that young man. Maybe she felt like she owed it to Christopher to save one young man when she could not save him. It had been even more surprising when she had recognized him as Hiram Stratton Jr., the infamous young man, about whom rumors were rampant. He was dead, he'd escaped from prison, he was a madman…nothing could have prepared Sophie for the truth.

He was nothing but a man. A man who was damaged. Like her. He'd loved and lost too, only he'd lost so much more than she. She'd lost her husband, but he'd lost everything. His fiancée, the woman he'd loved, his family, his home…everything. And still, he seemed _happier_ this way. She couldn't fathom it. What had been done to him. When he'd revealed that his father and friend had imprisoned him in a lunatic asylum simply for loving the wrong girl, she'd wanted to cry…she'd felt the maddening need to pull him close and rest her cheek against his hair. She'd felt a pull to him like nothing she'd ever known.

She needed to be near him. Which was the most frightening thing she'd ever felt because it was wrong in every way. When he'd come into the tent for breakfast the previous morning, and her eyes had fallen to where his shirt was partially unbuttoned, his chest just as tan as his face. It was sinful!

Camilla had, mercifully, agreed to come along with them on their sightseeing excursion. They had informed Sophie that there were no sidesaddles, which meant that the horses would have to be ridden astride. Sophie had then been presented with a pair of riding breeches from one of the smaller boys in the camp. Her face had flushed the darkest it had ever been, Camilla had told her, laughing. She'd decided a simple braid would be acceptable since she was already breaking every rule of dress there was.

Even worse, Sophie was in for another surprise when she met with her friend and Mr. Stratton outside the main tent, where Dr. Lightner was giving instructions to his men for the afternoon. Camilla gave her an apologetic look, her lovely white blonde hair in a braid, which was wrapped and pinned.

"I'm sorry, Sophie. I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany the two of you to the pyramids." She said. "Archibald is not feeling well today and I don't want to be far from him…" Sophie understood too well. It was wonderful to be needed by a man who loved you.

"Oh, I hope it's nothing serious." Sophie replied, concerned, though her heart had begun to pound furiously in her chest. Glancing at Mr. Stratton, she wondered if he could hear it. Her eyes widened and she felt another flush come on as his eyes wandered down her legs, over the tight fitting trousers. She was sorely regretting the decision to wear them. He probably thought her a hussy of the worst kind!

"I'm sure he'll be fine." Camilla was saying. Sophie nodded blankly, careful not to look down at Mr. Stratton's own well fitting pants and boots. A thrill rushed through her body at the sight of him with his white shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbow. "Anyway, I really must get back to him. Have a good time, you two!" She disappeared into the tent, leaving the pair of them alone.

Oh no.

"We're not taking a camel, are we?" She asked Mr. Stratton weakly. He vigorously shook his head.

"They _hate_ me." He chuckled, reaching for her hand, which she reluctantly gave to him. His hand was huge compared to hers. Leading the way, they walked toward a large, dark brown horse. Sophie sighed in relief at the sight of the familiar animal.

"Are you—do you—?" Sophie stammered, trying to speak. "Are we meant to ride together?" Mr. Stratton nodded tightly, gesturing for her to come forward. With apparent ease, his hands closed over her waist and she was hoisted onto the horse with her legs on either side. Sophie had to admit, it did feel the slightest bit safer. A second later, he'd climbed up behind her, and his arms came around her, taking the reins.

Sophie barely breathed the entire ride, staying silent and trying to ignore the fact that his chest was flush against her back.

"Is everything all right, Mrs. Hume?" He asked, his breath on her ear. Sophie shivered, horrified with her reaction to him. He smelled lovely and clean. The unshaven bristle of his cheek rubbed against her smooth skin when he spoke to her.

"Oh, yes." She answered, trying to sound mildly agreeable. "Just taking it all in." Truth be told, she hadn't been looking at anything. She had been staring straight ahead as if her life depended on it. Her whole body was fraught with tension as she willed herself not to enjoy being this close to Mr. Stratton. "And, I've asked you to call me Sophie, remember?"

_Sophie! What are you doing? Keep as formal as possible…familiarity will only encourage more wicked thoughts._

"As long as you call me Strat." He countered, smiling into her hair and resting his cheek on her head. Her entire body was tingling with the nearness of him.

"What is that scent in your hair, Sophie?" Strat asked, causing her eyebrows to rise so high, she thought they might fly off her face.

"It's a vanilla shampoo. I've always found vanilla to be very soothing." He didn't reply to this and it was again silent. Until they came close to one of the pyramids and Sophie nearly cried out at the enormity of them.

"Incredible!" She exclaimed, forgetting her reservations momentarily. "It really puts things into perspective, doesn't it?" She turned to face him. "It makes me feel terribly small…" Tourists were everywhere. For being in the desert, they were surrounded by people. Photographers…scientists…everyone wanted to look on them. Strat dismounted the horse and helped Sophie to the ground while she continued to marvel at the sheer size of these monuments. She would be embarrassed later, she decided.

Deep down, Sophie was glad Camilla hadn't come. It was shameful to think, but she couldn't help it. There was some sort of magic in the arid desert air. It crackled between them, like electricity. When she turned to look at him, he was watching her with an expression of quiet contentment. His eyes were sad, wistful even. She remembered what she had realized.

He was damaged just like her. They both needed to heal.

Sophie managed to smile up at him and held out her hand for him. He stared at it for a moment before he reached forward and took it. She was blinded, momentarily, by a memory of him…only it wasn't her memory. It was some sort of vision of him, in a moonlit garden, wearing an evening suit, an elegant little ascot tied at his throat. A product of her overactive imagination. He'd been younger then, innocent. Unharmed.

Great compassion filled her and she squeezed his hand. His face tightened, and for the smallest of moments, Sophie thought Mr. Stratton might cry, but he didn't. He squeezed back, swallowed hard and looked away. Sophie looked back up at the gigantic structure, still holding Strat's hand and praying silently that one day she would feel genuine happiness again.

* * *

**Meet Sophie! She's coming to me clearly now. I hope she's satisfactory.**

**S**


	6. Chapter 6

"You'll never catch me, Sis!" Annie tore after the tall shape of her older brother, giggling so hard she could barely run. The smell of cherry blossoms in the spring air was lovely, surrounding them. Her pinafore was already grass stained, but she didn't care. It was warm and she was having a wonderful time.

"Wait!" She called breathlessly, "We're going too far!" She stopped, seeing the looming figure of the mansion just ahead. "Henry, _stop_!"

Henry?

She looked around, trying to find her brother in the tress, but was nowhere to be seen. Creeping over to the hedge, she scanned the area.

"Henry?" She whispered, stopping dead when she heard the sound of other children's voices.

"I don't _care_, Devonny." A boy's voice said in irritation. "Now leave us be. We're going to ride bikes and you can't come!" Annie peered through the leaves and saw a sandy haired, adolescent boy in knickers standing with another boy. A tiny blonde girl stood with her hands on her hips.

"But you never want to do _anything_ with me." The little girl protested. "It's _boring_ by myself."

"Go inside and play with Harriett." The boy instructed his sister. The little girl actually stomped her foot.

"She's having her piano lesson." The girl informed him.

"You're _not_ coming, Devonny, and that's _final_." The boy said with a touch of childish arrogance. His friend snickered. Annie scowled at the boy, thinking he needed to be a bit nicer to his sister. "Come on, Walk. Race you to the ice cream shoppe!" The boys disappeared and Annie turned to leave.

"_There_ you are!" Her brother's voice came from behind, making her shriek.

"_Henry._" She protested, catching her breath and throwing one of her black braids over her shoulder. "You scared me."

"You know it isn't polite to spy, Sophie." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Especially on the Strattons."

Annie lifted her head, gasping as she woke up. She was bent over her desk, with her pen still in hand and her notebook lying open, page blank. She had accomplished nothing on her Modern World History essay. Groggily, her eyes flitted over to the digital alarm clock on her night stand. 10:30. She'd wasted _two_ hours sleeping instead of finishing homework. Annie gave up, setting aside the pen and closing the notebook. She would work on it over the weekend. In the meantime, she had to work tomorrow. Since she was majoring in journalism, she had begun a part time job at the local _Times _office. It was a small building, crowded with people and messy, with papers spread over every and any available surface. Annie loved it. She loved it even more because she had access to the archives.

Of course, right now, the extent of her job was answering phones, getting coffee for anyone who asked and proofreading. It was a comfortable, fairly laid back environment and, best of all, she was allowed to wear jeans to work. On the down side, the pay was atrocious, which was why she was still going to be living with Mom and Dad probably until she graduated or died. Whichever came first.

On the whole, things couldn't have been going better. She was in school, had a job in the field she was going into, she had a boyfriend (kind of), and was almost afraid to admit that she was deliriously happy. Strat was too good to be true, even if this version of him _did_ enjoy Nintendo and bloody action movies. She couldn't fault him for that. They had fun together, which was something that Annie hadn't really ever had a chance to do with Strat before. There had always been some unimaginable obstacle in their way, whether it had been his obligation to Harriett, being framed for murder, breaking him out of an asylum—

Yeah, that was probably _not _the healthiest of ways to conduct a relationship.

Tomorrow, she was going to turn her attention to something else for a change. Her _own_ family. She wanted to know more about Henry and Anna Lockwood and their children. And of course, the woman she'd gotten her middle name for.

Sophia.

She'd had them all on her mind since her chat with her father and she found herself wondering where they'd lived, what they'd looked like. She wanted to know about Sophia's first husband who was murdered. She wanted to know what her second husband's name was. Vaguely, she wondered if any of their children were still alive. It was doubtful, of course. She knew all of her father's aunts and uncles were gone by now, so it stood to reason that their cousins were no longer alive either.

Annie had spent enough time on Strat's family. She still longed to know how his story had ended, but she had resigned herself to the fact that maybe she wasn't meant to know. Thinking of him dead and gone was too painful. Even though she suspected in her heart that Lockwood Stratton was really Hiram Stratton Jr., the thought of her Strat growing old and gray and dying made her chest ache. The thought of beautiful, honey haired Devonny being a hundred years old and holding her great-grandson was a terrifying thought too. She couldn't picture it.

She didn't really need to.

What she needed, was Strat to remember her.

* * *

Tod was debating whether or not he wanted a vanilla or a chocolate milkshake from McDonalds. It was cold today, forcing him to wear the stupid looking coat his mother had bought him for his birthday last January. She'd insisted he would look more professional in it, but it just made him feel like a dork. It was gray and made of wool with big buttons. It definitely didn't go with his casual T-Shirt, which today feature the logo of the Yankees.

He'd finally busted his old varsity jacket last winter, which left him with this creation. It was embarrassing. He felt like a girl.

"Are you going to order, or can I go?" An impatient voice came from behind him. Tod whirled around to find himself looking down into the greenest pair of eyes he had ever seen. A girl he vaguely recognized stood there, a full head shorter than him, her delicate eyebrow raised. His eyes felt to the soft, buttery colored strands of hair around her face.

"Sorry." He managed to mutter, stepping up to the bored looking cashier and ordering a chocolate milkshake.

"Laura's Fabric Shop, right?" The girl said, once she'd ordered. Tod looked down at her, confused.

"What?"

"You're the coach for Laura's Fabric Shop soccer team. The six to seven year old division." She explained. Tod blinked, staring blankly at her.

"Um, yeah." He replied, shoving his hands nervously into the pockets of his ridiculous looking coat.

"I'm Poppy Wilder." She told him. "I coach Sam's Garage."

"Oh yeah…" Tod answered, now remembering where he'd seen her from. Across the field at their first game of the season. "I'm Tod. Lockwood." He said casually, taking his milkshake from the girl over the counter and nearly dropping it.

"I know. I remember." Poppy replied, nodding. Her sweet honey and butter colored locks were half pulled back into a barrette. She wore no makeup as far as he could tell, but she didn't need to. Her cheeks were pink, not the vulgar tan that a lot of girls wore these days. Her eyelashes were darker, framing her brilliant emerald eyes. Tod felt panic begin to flutter in his chest. He had to get away from her.

"Poppy…" He said, trying to think of something to say. "That's an unusual name." He winced. That had been the wrong thing to say. You were not supposed to insult girls by telling them they had funny names. To his surprise, Poppy laughed – an intoxicating sound.

"Yeah, yeah…it's my mother's favorite flower. She was sort of a hippie." She shrugged, taking her tray and giving him another one of those beaming smiles. "Well anyway…see you on the field, Tod."

"Oh. Yep." He nodded awkwardly, swallowing. "See ya." Tod then did the only thing he could think of.

He fled.

* * *

Annie flipped through an old book of archived newspapers, searching for something…_anything_ with her last name on it. She'd been through some of these at the library already, looking for information about the Strattons, so she came across quite a few things she'd already read. She saw the announcement about Devonny Aurelia Victoria Stratton marrying the Duke of Winden again. She scanned through every article looking for something mentioning anything about Henry Lockwood.

Finally, after two hours of reading, when her eyes were starting to blur over and she was sure she was going to need glasses, she saw a headline that caught her eye.

_Young Factory Worker Murdered._

_December 24, 1897_

Annie's eyes widened, remembering something her father had mentioned.

_On Christmas Eve, a young man was shot and killed on his way home from work. The man has been identified as Christopher Hume, 21, a factory worker at Stratton Locomotive. _

Annie gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She felt a lump form in her throat even though she did not recognize the man's name. How awful.

_Police are investigating the situation, questioning any possible witnesses as to who might have committed this crime. Mr. Hume is survived by his wife Sophia, formerly Lockwood, 18. She was not available for comment. If anyone has any information regarding this situation, please contact the Police Department. _

Annie's eyes blurred over, and she felt her lower lip begin to tremble. Her poor aunt! A year younger than Annie and losing her husband. On Christmas Eve, no less! Of course, Dad had told her that she had remarried, but it was still a terrible thing. She quickly scanned the office to make sure that no one saw her tearing up like a goofball over a dead relative that she had not met and would _never_ meet. The only other article she could find, was a wedding announcement of her great-grandparents.

So, Annie made sure that she was the only one home after work, when she pulled down the trapdoor outside her room and climbed up into the dusty old crawlspace that was their attic. Feeling her way along the wall, she found the string hanging from the ceiling and pulled, watching the dim light flicker on. She sagged in defeat seeing piles of cardboard boxes all over the place.

How was she ever supposed to find anything in this mess?

Annie decided to try the first box and checked first to see what it was labeled.

_Annie Baby Clothes/Toys_

Nope. Shoving that box aside, she next moved Tod's box. The third box read, _David and Amelia Wedding._ Annie smiled, despite herself. That, of course, referred to the _first_ wedding her parents had had. The one that had spawned the awful bridesmaid dress Annie had been forced to wear to the second one. The eighties had been a terrible, terrible time for fashion.

Annie was nearly ready to give up as it was getting harder to breathe up in this dusty prison until she finally came to a box that said, _Lockwood Family._ This box definitely looked more weathered and delicate than the other. She used her fingertips to gently pry the box open. Inside were some ancient looking photo albums with inserts that had yellowed over time. Gently tucked between them were a few framed photos. Annie was almost afraid to look.

Pulling out the first album, she opened it and saw her grandparents, James and Trudy Lockwood and their four children. Her Aunt Sarah and Uncles Henry and Chris, and of course, Dad. This album was filled with photos from her father's childhood. Setting it aside, she took out the next, which looked to be falling apart at the binding. This one looked a bit older. The pictures looked extremely fragile, as if they could turn to ash at any given moment. The first picture was a group of nine children. All of whom had been labeled in feminine scrawl.

"_The Kids"_

_Gretchen, Caroline, James, Jack, Peter, Margaret, Robert, Leo and little Harriett. _

Wait, Harriett? Her father had said Helen.

Annie knew that Harriett was a very common name for little girls back then, but it made her sad to think of the Harriett she had known who had died wanting only the love of a boy. The children were all grinning in the sunlight, some of them darker haired than others. Little Harriett looked to be missing her front teeth, showing them off. Annie tore her eyes off of the kids, looking at the next photo, a picture of a very young, attractive blonde holding a chubby baby.

_Anna and Gretchen, Christmas 1900. _

Gretchen? Annie cringed at the names of these poor kids. She was secretly glad that she had been born in a time when girls had somewhat more attractive names. Another photo had three older, more adolescent children posed together very solemnly as most family portraits of that time.

_Sophie's brood. John "Jack", Leo and Harriett. _

Annie studied her aunt's children, trying to find similarities to herself in them. She definitely saw a resemblance in Harriett's lovely face, but for some reason, when she looked at the boys, all she could see was _Strat_. Now she was seeing his face in her own family? Annie shook her head and shut the photo album. Perhaps that was enough for one afternoon. Her eyes were tired.

Carefully, Annie picked up a small, framed photo so that she could settle the photo album back into the box without disrupting anything. It was covered in dust. She used the bottom of her shirt to wipe it clean and turned it over to inspect it.

Annie screamed.

Her own face was staring back at her. With trembling fingers, she unlatched the back of the flimsy frame and removed it so she could read the back.

_Sophia Maria Lockwood, 1897_

Annie wanted to drop it and flee down the ladder, back into the house. Back into normalcy, but she could not stop staring at the photo.

"Annie?" Tod's voice called from below. "Are you okay?" Annie barely heard him, did not respond. "Annie?" He must have seen the ladder hanging down, because he appeared at the opening a second later, still dressed in his coat. "Hey, what's wrong?" His hand moved across to rest on her arm. Vaguely, she thrust the miniature into his hand, staring straight ahead.

"Holy crap!" He exclaimed, studying the picture. "Who's this?"

"Aunt Sophia." She whispered. "Our great-grandfather's sister."

"Wow. It's scary, Annie." He exclaimed. Annie met his eyes, which were alight with something she hadn't seen in a while. Was it hope?

"You seem in a good mood." She observed, sucking in a breath and taking the picture back, clutching it to her chest. They both descended out of the attic and shut the trapdoor. Annie took a few gulps of clean air.

"I…met someone today." Tod admitted. Annie realized, nearly laughing, that Tod was actually wearing the pea coat their mother had bought him for his birthday this past year.

"Oh really?"

"Well, I guess not _met_ so much as ran into." He went on, leading her down into the living room. Annie still held onto that ancient photo. "Her name is Poppy Wilder. She's the Sam's Garage coach."

"Oh, really?" Annie said, momentarily forgetting her distress. "And?"

"And what?" He asked with a shrug. "I bought a milkshake, she bought a burger and I left."

"You didn't even stay and eat with her?" Annie asked, looking at him in disbelief.

"Why would I do that?" He genuinely looked confused.

"Well, did you ask her out or get her number?" Annie demanded, now impatient with her brother. His blue eyes widened with panic.

"No!" He cried. "I think we said all of ten words to each other."

"Do you find her attractive?" Annie asked. Tod turned red, indicating that he did, indeed, find Poppy attractive. Annie felt a slow grin come over her face. Finally! "Well, when do you play them again?"

"Two weeks." Tod replied, rather miserably.

"Well, why don't you invite her to Mom's work Halloween party as your date?" Annie offered, thinking of the party in a couple of weeks. Tod pondered this momentarily.

"I don't know…I don't _know_." He groaned, agonizing. Annie could not keep the smirk off her face. "What if she says no?"

"What, are you going to be alone forever because you're afraid of rejection?"

"Possibly." Tod said, unsure. Annie rolled her eyes.

"Don't be a moron. Man up!" She punched him in the arm. "By the way, I'm _loving_ that coat. It's so New York City." Throwing a wink at her brother, she started for the kitchen.

"Shut _up_." Tod grumbled from behind her. Annie laughed to herself, leaving him standing in the living room so that she could go process the new discoveries she had just made.

* * *

There was to be a ball. A _real_ ball for arrival of the British Prince and his family. There was a rumor that the since the queen was getting on in years, her son was starting to do the travelling and visiting in her stead, in preparation for the crown he would inherit soon. Of course, he was no young man at nearly sixty years old! Still, the whole family was coming to boost morale of their soldiers, though they would not be staying long.

Sophie was standing with Camilla watching the young men dig as they did every day. It was very odd to see men standing around with no shirts on as they toiled away in the blazing Sudan sun. She was glad that she had coiled her black hair higher on her head today since there seemed to be no relief from the heat. She wasn't able to stand a full day dress, instead opting for a simple white blouse with the sleeves rolled to her elbows and a lightweight canvas skirt.

"How can they stand it?" She muttered, fanning herself with her hand. Camilla peered down at her from under her wide brimmed hat.

"Stand what?"

"This _heat._" Sophie sighed. "Aren't they afraid they'll be burnt to a crisp?"

"I suppose it's the lesser of the evils." Camilla replied, "Some of them would rather burn than sweat through all of their clothes."

"The poor dears." Sophie agreed, nodding. One of the young men looked up at her and blew her a kiss, infuriating her. "And then they do _that._" She groaned.

"Why must they all be suggestive?" She asked, shaking her head. "Especially the college boys."

"They're young…they're idiots and you're beautiful, Sophie." Camilla told her, laughing at Sophie's startled expression. "You _are._"

"I'm sweating, my hair is a fright and my face is sunburned. How can I possibly attract any of them?" She wanted to turn away and run back into the safety of one of the tents, but something else caught her eye. "Camilla," She said, grabbing her taller friend's arm. "Is that – is that Mr. _Stratton?_" Sophie pointed to the shirtless young man facing away from her. She only knew it was him because of the messy crop of light brown hair, which had lightened tremendously from his time spent in the sun.

"Where?" Camilla asked vaguely, shielding her eyes to look. "Oh, yes. He's been very helpful in the digging lately. Since his camera is gone now, he wants Archibald to know how much he appreciates him, so he's been very active in the digging." Sophie stared, slack jawed, at the way the muscles in his back undulated with every movement he made. Ashamed once more, she looked away.

"You like him, don't you?" Camilla uttered quietly, studying her. Sophie looked up at her in horror.

"_Who?_"

"Strat, of course." Camilla giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "You _do,_ don't you?"

"Oh come off it, Millie." Sophie scoffed. "You know I'm not interested in men. It's only been—"

"Two years, Sophie. It's been two years since Christopher died." Her friend told her sympathetically. Sophie felt her friend's delicate hand cover her own. "It's only natural that you should want to find love again." Shaking her head furiously, Sophie backed away, not allowing herself to look back at the young men.

"I can't. It's wrong…he wouldn't want me to." Sophie insisted, blinking against the tears.

"Of course he would!" Camilla's voice was forceful, but obviously she was still trying to be gentle with Sophie. "You and I can go into Cairo and we can find ball gowns to wear to the Prince's ball—"

"I am not going to that, Camilla." Sophie protested tearfully. "And besides, even if I _were_ to go, no one wants to marry a widow. Men want women who haven't been…_you_ know," Her blue eyes flitted around, "Intimate." She whispered. Camilla, who was only seventeen, knew very little about these sorts of things.

"Strat certainly seems to like you." Camilla pointed out, looking back at the young man, who was chatting with two of the college boys. He must have noticed them staring, because he waved. Sophie practically dove behind Camilla in embarrassment. She did not want to look at Mr. Stratton and his broad chest or the lovely shadow of beard that he wore on his face. In fact, Sophie wanted to go and _hide _from him, as if burying herself in her tent could protect her from his charms.

Camilla wrestled with her in confusion, laughing.

"Sophie, what are you—?" She spun around, while Sophie dodged her. "Stop _moving_!" She chortled. Sophie buried her face in her hands, absolutely mortified.

"What are you doing?" Camilla asked dryly. Sophie shook her head.

"I'm going out of my mind." She replied, feeling dizzy from the heat and sinking to sit into the sand.

"Let me get you some water, dear." Camilla insisted, patting her shoulder and running for the tent. Sophie continued to hide in her hands, willing her pulse to return to normal. The heat was awful, boring down on the top of her dark head.

"Mrs. Hume! Are you unwell?" A worried voice inquired from above. Swallowing, Sophie removed her hands and dragged her eyes up the sinewy body of Strat. She was sure her eyes were full of shame, but she did not look away.

"Just a bit overexerted in the heat." She murmured, watching him lower to sit across from her, cross legged. "Camilla just went to fetch me some water. You don't have to sit here. Really." _I really can't handle being this close to you. _

"I don't mind at all." He told her with a smile that would have made her weak in the knees had she still been standing. "Your hair looks very pretty wrapped like that." He added. Sophie looked down into her hands, feeling like a girl of fifteen again.

"Oh you are a terrible flirt, Mr. Stratton." She replied, though she smiled despite herself.

"Well you have the _terrible_ part right." He chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a flirt at all."

"Me either." She assured him. "I married the only boy I ever knew who wasn't my brother." A nervous laugh fell out of her before she burst into tears, once again burying her face into her hands. A moment later, a cup was thrust into her hands and she was lifted to her feet.

"Come on. You need out of the sun." Strat told her with authority, walking her past Camilla, who had a small smile on her lovely face. Sophie sniffed helplessly, allowing herself to lean into the sun warmed skin of Strat. "Drink, Sophie." He instructed, sounding entirely too bossy for her liking. She managed to glare at him, but took a long drink of the cool liquid.

"Don't _tell_ me what to do." She told him through gritted teeth. He stared at her oddly and, for a small moment, she thought he'd reprimand her. Instead, he began to laugh at her! He was making fun of her!

"There's a girl!" He cried, good naturedly. "I wondered when I'd see the feisty side of you."

"What do you mean?" She asked, reluctantly letting him help her sit in a hammock, settling in beside her.

"Oh, I mean no offense, Sophia." He told her. "I'm impressed. You just…reminded me of someone I used to know. That's all."

"Oh." She took another long sip.

"Tell me about your brother." Strat said, moving to pull his shirt on. Sophie vaguely realized he'd brought her into his tent, but she wasn't scared.

"Well…he's three years older than me." She began. "We're very close. He went to work in the factory when he was fourteen. Our father was manager, but then he became ill, so Tod covered in his place while he was out."

"Sophie…your brother's name is Henry." Strat told her slowly. She stared at him in bemusement.

"Yes, it is. He was named for my father." She agreed, swallowing.

"But, you just called your brother 'Tod.'" His face was pale beneath his tanned skin. Sophie furrowed her brows, completely lost.

"Who is Tod?" She asked him, raising an eyebrow. He did not answer, but he certainly looked like he might know the answer, which was all the more worrisome. "I'm sorry…the heat." Her voice wavered. "Well, Father died of pneumonia and since Henry had already done the job well, he was promoted to Factory Manager."

"I'm sorry." Strat said sincerely, pointing to the tin cup in her hand. "Please finish."

"Strat, it's so totally not cool when you boss me around." She blurted, not really knowing what she was saying. Closing her eyes briefly, she attempted to regain her composure. She saw that Strat looked mildly offended by what she'd said. "Goodness…I'm a mess today, aren't I?" Rising slowly, she made sure she wasn't going to pass out before sighing. Strat was on his feet in moments, watching her like a hawk.

"You should sit." He insisted weakly. Sophie made herself smile at him.

"I think I need a nap." She reached out to take his hand. He took it eagerly, shocking her when he reached out and brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. Sophie froze when his eyes half closed and she felt herself lean toward him, closing her own eyes. It wasn't until their lips barely brushed together that her eyes flew back open. Strat, however, was the one to break it before they'd really even touched.

"I'm sorry!" They both cried at the same exact time. Despite the extreme chaos in her mind, she smiled at him.

"The heat." He explained, shrugging. "Please don't think I'm one of those men who goes around treating women as they please like _them._" He nodded toward the digging site, where the vulgar college boys were still working. "I would _never_ take advantage of a lady."

"I know." Sophie assured him, patting his cheek. "I trust you, Strat. Just don't judge me too harshly…I'm not what most men think of widows."

"I know." He looked down at their clasped hands and lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the soft skin there. "Shall I walk you?" She shook her head.

"I'm much better now, thank you." She nodded and exited through the flap of his tent, practically running the short distance to her own living quarters, panting as she fell onto the uncomfortable cot, trying to sort through her thoughts.

She was in trouble.

She had nearly kissed Hiram Stratton Jr.

And, she now needed a ball gown.

Drat.

* * *

**Okay, I can tell you that I'm pretty sure that Edward VII and his family did not visit Cairo in 1899 or have a ball. But, for the purposes of this story, he did. I mean, if people can Time Travel, we can rewrite history slightly. Right?**

**Syd**


End file.
